


May Mayhem

by Acxa_Kogane



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: 31 Days of Fanfiction Challenge, AU, Again, Alfred always watches out for everyone, Brotherly Bonding, CC history sentences, Cass doesn't either, Cass is amazing, Cassandra dances, Cookies, Dami likes swords, Damian is a worried brother, Damian loves them, Damian sleepwalks, Dick Grayson is Robin, Don't mind me I'm just going to mess around with canon and timelines for a bit, First season of YJ, Fluff, Gen, Haunted Library, I am your father, I love him, I'm trying this, Its a mystery, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is a nerd, Jason agrees, Jason does not, Jason is a good brother, Jason is a troll, Jason is with the Outlaws (Roy & Kori), Jay and Tim are bonding, Jay is amused, Lightsabers, Look I titled it for a reason, MAY THE FORTH, Multiverse Travel, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pranks, Princess Bride, Protective!Dick, Robin!Tim, Singing, Sleep-deprived Tim, Spider: Part 2, Spiders, Steph knows, Tags Contain Spoilers, Texting, The others don't know they're close, Tim Needs Sleep, Tim is an evil genius, Tim is sleep deprived, Tim is tired, Tim likes couches, Tim likes to "reboot his brain", Tim needs more sleep, Time travel (kinda), Timeline What Timeline, We all love her, YJ universe, You Have Been Warned, actual detective work done by a bat, and traumatizing Tim at night, batbros, batfam, but lets see how it goes, chaos will ensue, dick is confused, don't worry they'll find out soon, even if he doesn't show it, even if several of them deny it, excerpt from a fic I totally will write at some point, for once, ghost!jay, history lesson, how does she know?, it might fail, it's adorable, platonic, quotes, secret keeping, these people are so siblings, yes. Dick sleeps with his phone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-15 21:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acxa_Kogane/pseuds/Acxa_Kogane
Summary: A collection of ficlets and drabbles that I hope to update every day throughout May. Mostly one-shots but there might be some multi-chapter ones.Most recent:The fact that beeping woke him up made him mad. Why was it always the beeping? It was so cliche that he decided to ignore it. He wasn’t going to succumb to cliche-ness. Ever.Then somebody entered the room. Well, they didn’t really enter, he just became aware of their presence in the room.Crap.orJason wakes up in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar face.





	1. Richard the Lion-Hearted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim was sleep deprived again and that means crazy stuff happens

There was only one explanation for the sight that greeted young Damian Wayne’s eyes — or rather, ears, depending on which he was going with — at precisely seven o’clock in the morning in the Wayne Manor library.

Drake was severely sleep deprived.

Again.

A sing-song voice came from the chandelier.

 “…During the late 1400’s Czar Ivan the Great built the Kremlin in Moscow. Catherine the Great expanded and westernized Russia in the late 1700’s…”

The light fixture was gently swinging.

Needless to say, Damian required... _assistance_.

There was no way that Drake would listen to him in this state (not that he would have listened to him normally), so somebody else needed to get involved.

Pennyworth was a good option, but he was making breakfast right now and Damian wasn’t about to enter the kitchen during meal preparation (he’d learned his lesson last time).

Brown was incompetent and wouldn’t have been able to get Drake down even if she had been at the manor.

“…English King John signed the Magna Carta in 1215, which limited the king’s power…”

Cain was surely capable, but getting her meant he would probably be subjected to extensive blackmail photos. He scowled.

For some unfathomable reason, all the girls (and Grayson) seemed to consider him as being, in their words, “adorable” in his Gotham Prep uniform, and they all considered it a reward of sorts whenever they managed to get pictures of him in the dreaded thing. So no. She was not an option. 

Gordon was likely in “her” room, having come over for a “girls night” with Brown and Cain, but she would be physically incapable of getting Drake down, which might be necessary.

“…Later England’s king, Edward III, claimed to be king of France, and began the Hundred Year’s War in 1337…”

That only left Grayson, as Father was in East Asia on a mission. A frown flitted across his face at the idea of going to Grayson for assistance. It wasn’t that he disliked the man. It was actually quite the opposite, as he admired Grayson far more then he would like to admit.

The problem was, Grayson had gone on patrol last night, checking in at around 3:00 AM. Any reasonable person would be able to deduce that lead to him only getting around three hours of sleep. Anyone who even remotely knew the man would know that someone (especially one of his little brothers) waking him up now would result in one thing.

Cuddles.

Cuddles and hugs. 

Innumerable hugs.

“…During the Hundred Year’s War, Joan of Arc and King Charles the VII lead the French to defeat England at the Battle of Orleans…”

Was waking him worth it?

Grayson would subject him to many hugs and extensive exclamations of supposed “cuteness.” (Which was completely untrue, by the way. He was not “cute”, but majestic and noble, as his heritage required.) Then, once that was done, Grayson would likely sneak a few photos and fawn over them later in private. Perhaps he might show them to Pennyworth or Father.

“…In the late 1340’s fleas on rats carried the plague, which killed one out of three Europeans…”

Yes, the situation was worth waking Grayson up for, even if it just was so that Drake’s dazed singing would blessedly **cease**. (It wasn’t that he cared about the fool’s safety or mental wellbeing. Certainly not.)

 

__________

 

_Knock, Knock, Knock._

 

That was Dami. Nobody else rapped as firmly and demandingly as his littlest brother.

Swinging his legs out of bed (it was _seven?!_ ) he managed to make his way to the door.

Yawning, he opened it, letting in a flood of light and one _adorable_ little ten-year old. Goodness he was adorable. Nobody should be allowed to be that cute and that mad at the same time. His eyes were so big and shiny and annoyed — it just wasn’t fair.

“Grayson. I apologize for waking you, but Drake is being an idiot again. I- _He_ requires your assistance promptly.”

_SO. CUTE!!!_

Right, Tim is doing something and whatever it was worried Dami enough that he came to get him. Wasn’t that sweet! He totally cared for him.

“It’s okay Dames,” he said through a yawn,“What’s Timmy doing?”

Dami’s little nose scrunched up adorably.

“He has somehow gotten on top of the chandelier in the library and he is… _singing_.”

Singing?

Suddenly his exhaustion vanished (mostly). This was an interesting development. Tim wasn’t the kind of guy who would sing.

 _Then again_ , a voice in his head remarked, _he isn’t the kind of guy who builds pink yarn webs in the cave or covers the manor in tin foil_. 

That… was a very good point.

“What’s he singing?”

“History facts.”

Oh. He was going to wager that Tim hadn't slept recently. _Things_ happened when Tim hadn't slept. This fit the bill for one of those random things.

Pushing past Dami, he jogged down the hall towards the library.

“Come on Dami! Let’s go save your brother from the chandelier!”

 

Three minutes later he was staring at the silhouetted lump in the light fixture.

“…Umm, Timmy?”

There was shuffling above him. Then a black fuzzy head popped over the side.

“…Dick?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Tim’s smile was very detached. He giggled.

“Dick. Richard.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s me. Want to come down now?”

  _pause_

“…Richard the Lion-Hearted, son of Eleanor of Aquitaine, fought the Turks for Jerusalem during the time of the Crusades, which occurred from 1095 to 1291.” Tim sang happily from his perch.

Oh dear.

“That’s… great Timmy. Um. But it’s time for you to take a nap now, does that sound okay?”

The boy seemed to think about this very seriously for several seconds before asking, “Can I have cookies when I wake up?”

“…Yes?”

That appeared to be the right answer, as the young bird immediately catapulted himself off his perch and landed directly on top of him, knocking him to the ground. Tim, however, found no issues with this course of action, sighing gently before saying “…Good.” The boy then proceeded to promptly pass out on top of him.

Extricating himself from his little brother, he scooped the floppy boy up and maneuvered his way to Tim’s bedroom. Carefully, he lay the boy down on the fluffy mattress and arranged the sheets around him.

Despite it being seven in the morning, he found himself whispering “Night-night Timmy!”

A soft murmur floated from the bed. “Night Dick…”

It was followed by a faint snore.

Smiling at his brother, he quietly closed the door and turned around.

Dami was trying to look like he was totally not relieved that Tim had been rescued.

Wait, was he wearing his school uniform?

The ten year old noticed his excitement and began to inch his way towards the exit.

"Hey Dami, did I tell you how adorable you look in that?"

The dash to the door was very short, as he latched onto the younger boy and scrambled in his pj's for his cell phone. A selfie was definitely in order. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Day One of my self-imposed challenge!  
> Hopefully you all will love reading this as much as I loved writing it. Sleep-deprived Tim is one of my favorite Tims so he will be appearing again, fear not. (Or maybe you should fear. Of all Tims he is probably the most to be feared.)


	2. The Cliffs of Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is almost regretting all those movie nights with Jason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the Princess Bride and I will not deny it.

It wasn’t like it was a secret or anything, though they both pretended that it was.

The fact of the matter was simple. No mask could hope to disguise one best friend from the other. So when Tim spotted his target jumping out a window, there were no doubts in his mind as to who it was. 

The man scaling the building above him was none other then the red sheep of the bat family, his brother and best friend, Jason Peter Todd. 

How on earth Jason had managed to avoid recognition from the Bat was beyond him, but on the other hand, it was Jason, so he really wasn't all that surprised.

A few weeks ago, Batman had found out that three of the leading drug dealers in lower Gotham were being blackmailed by an unknown entity. When plans for the dealers' assassinations were discovered, Batman had set Red Robin on the case. 

Red Robin had, specifically, been assigned to track and apprehend the blackmailer. Batman believed that this unknown figure had plans in place to fill the void created in the drug industry. Now, Tim was fairly sure that the blackmailer's (aka: Jason's,) plan was just to kill the criminals and worry about consequences later. 

This scenario had a few issues. The most prominent being that Batman was expecting Red Robin to bring the blackmailer in. 

But, if he told the Bat that this blackmailer was, in fact, the Red Hood, there would be _difficulties,_  to say the least. B would get all furious that Hood was still active and killing in Gotham and go on a bat-rampage that would end in a fight and a beatdown. 

Then Jay would get mad at him for setting the other bats on his tail and probably drop off the face of the earth for a few months — at least until any physical injuries sustained had healed and Tim was feeling rightfully apologetic.

Jay could be a bit dramatic like that.

The best choice would be to follow Jay until they were out of Oracle’s view, mock fight for a bit to get the expected injuries, and then make a plan together on how to work this out in a mutually beneficial way. 

That meant he had to pursue. Craning his neck backwards, he watched as the black-suited figure climbed up the side of the skyscraper, looking almost like Spider-Man. Hmmm. 

Taking a quick detour, he grappled from building to building until he got close enough to hook the gothic rail that rested on the roof of his target building. By now, Jason was almost at the top.

Swiftly, he activated the grapple, allowing it to drag him through the air. It wasn’t until the grappling hook started to slide to the edge of the flimsy railing that he realized he might have a problem. 

Thankfully, he was almost at the top. With a quick swing, he managed to vault himself up to a series of small gothic ledges that crowned the building. He watched as the grappling hook slipped off of the slick bar, and fell downwards to the streets below, not even a second after he had landed and turned to look.

Great.

Jason’s masked head popped over the side on the building, clearly checking to make sure that the bat on his tail hadn’t fallen. Tim could practically feel the relief coming from Jason once he was assured that his little brother wasn't plummeting to his doom. A moment later, Tim could sense a definite air of mischievousness.

Oh dear.

“Hello there.”

All Jason got was a grunt in return.

Tim carefully maneuvered his way up towards the roof, gaining about an inch. The wet Gotham rooftops seemed to be perpetually slippery and were a massive pain in the neck at times. 

“Slow going?”

Wait.

That was Jason's acting voice.

No. 

Nope nope nopeiddy nope. 

Tim was not going to succumb to the urge to respond.

There would only be silence.

Silence.

Si-

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks. So I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.”

Dang it. He succumbed.

Stupid Jason and his stupid movie nights and his stupid playacting.

Jay’s pleasure at his response was tangible.

“Sorry.”

“Thank you.”

The black head vanished from his sight. A few more inches were gained. The head appeared again.

“I do not suppose you could speed things up?”

 _Seriously_ Jason?!

Why did the universe hate him so much. The circumstances were practically perfect for the situation. 

Rolling his eyes, he snarked back.

“If you’re in such a hurry, you could lower a rope, or a tree branch, or find something useful to do.”

Jason hummed and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet.

“I could do that. In fact, I’ve got some rope right here. But I do not think you will accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you.”

Six more inches gained. Now he was only a yard or so from the top.

“That does put a damper on our relationship.”

If only his first meeting with Jason (when they guy actually wanted to kill him) had gone so smoothly. 

“…But I promise I will not kill you until you reach the top.”

“That’s very comforting. But I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait.”

“I hate waiting.”

Ha! Well, that was accurate.

His older brother leaned over the edge again.

“I could give you my word as a Spaniard.”

Oh, so they were sticking to the script, were they? No substitutions here.

“No good. I’ve known too many Spaniards.”

At this point, Tim could flip himself to the top, but he was dedicated now and backing out would be a sign of weakness. So he continued to hang on.

“You don’t know any way you’ll trust me?”

“Nothing comes to mind.”

Here it comes. One of Jaybird’s favorite lines. Prepare yourself for the exact replica of the original: the pacing, the accent, everything.

“I swear on the soul of my father, Domingo Montoya, you will reach the top alive.”

Ta-da. Yay. Applause. Tim was thrilled. Now could they get to the part where he's not dangling above the ground by his fingertips anymore?

“Throw me the rope.”

A few seconds later, a grapple rope descended next to him. Sweet, sweet relief came to his burning fingers when he latched onto the rope and pushed off from the wall. 

Jason easily hefted him to the roof, grinning all the while. 

“Thank you.”

“We’ll wait until you’re ready.”

What.

No. 

He was NOT acting out the whole swordfight, no matter how nicely Jason would ask. 

Jay laughed at his expression.

“Don’t worry, Babybird, I’m not going to make you act it all out.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

Jay plopped down next to him on the roof, apparently completely relaxed, despite having climbed up the side of a twenty-five story building to get away from him just a few minutes before.

They spent a few beats in silence before his brother shifted to give him a smirk.

“Admit it. You liked it.”

Ugh. 

Tim totally didn’t like it.

At all.

It was a complete waste of time and his fingers hurt.

(Okay, maybe he did like it. Just a little bit.)

“Fine! I’ll admit, it was… refreshing.”

“Man, how hard has B been working you?”

He tilted his head and gave Jason a look.

Gloved hands rose in surrender.

“Okay, okay! I get it! But seriously babybird, if you ever need a break, just give me a call. I’m sure I can work out a kidnapping or two.”

“Uh, thanks, I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t need anyone kidnapped?”

Jason gave him a lopsided, evil grin.

Oh. 

 _Oh_.

“No. You are not kidnapping me.”

The grin only grew wider.

“I refuse.”

Dang it. Jay was determined now. That little sparkle in his blue eyes gave it all away.

Soon, however, the topic drifted to other (safer) matters and they both got to relax, away from judgmental glares and nosey redheads (respectively).

It was close to midnight before Gotham watched two red birds fly from one of her spires.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was trying to figure out what I wanted to write today, and suddenly that scene from Princess Bride popped into my head and I just HAD to write it, so here we are!
> 
> If you haven't seen the movie, that is your newest priority. Watch it. It will be one of the best decisions you have ever made.
> 
> Edit 5/3/19:  
> So I literally wrote that as the first draft and uploaded it before my computer died. My amazing beta has (now) returned the edited version to me and I have changed accordingly.


	3. The Library Ghost - Excerpt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone was there. 
> 
> There was a teenage boy draped across the opposing chair (the one everyone stared at), calmly reading a book like it was totally normal to be there.
> 
>  
> 
> or
> 
> Robin!Tim finds an unusual guest at the Gotham Public Library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alert: This is an excerpt from an unnamed fic I'm still working on.

Someone was there.

There was a teenage boy draped across the opposing chair (the one everyone stared at), calmly reading a book like it was totally normal for him to be there.

He didn't move. He just stopped dead in his tracks.

Nobody had been here before. He was the only one who even remotely seemed to be able to stand being in this area of the library. (Dick was the only other one who'd even tried to stay and he always turned pale and scurried out before five minutes had passed.) 

After about thirty seconds or so of Tim standing like a deer in headlights, the boy looked up.

He knew that face.

Lightheadedness took hold of him — his jaw dropping to the floor and staring.

The black-haired teen met his eyes, also a crystallized blue, and smirked.

"'sup."

Was his heart still working?

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. 

He managed to get his vocal chords to work, but just barely.

"You're Jason Todd."

The wonder, confusion, excitement, and slight horror had turned his voice into a whisper.

The smirk grew.

"Yup."

He must have hit his head or fallen asleep because there was no way this was real.

His brain-to-mouth function didn't appear to be working properly cause he heard himself state in a strange mix of awestruck bluntness and confusion,

"You're dead."

He instantly winced. That was probably on this list of things to not say when you meet a dead guy.

Jason (if it really was him which was impossible) shrugged.

"That's what I've been told."

He stared at the boy. The boy who would have been his older brother. The boy who was (and still is) his idol. The boy who had died a year, seven months, two weeks, and five days ago at the hands of the Joker.

The boy who was lounging on the chair across from him.

His brain went into overdrive, relentlessly trying to solve the enigma in front of him.

The next thing he knew, something was poking him between his eyes. 

Repeatedly. Also, when did it get so cold in here? And- what was poking him?

Blinking, he came back to himself.

The eraser end of a pencil hovered between his eyes.

Jason Todd held the other end with an amused and slightly concerned expression.

This was not happening.

___________

 

"Kid?" He asked.

The younger boy was staring into space with an odd expression, his eyes unnaturally vacant.

That... probably wasn't normal.

Slipping off the chair, he approached the dazed boy.

A minute passed before he tried to touch him, hoping that now that the boy could apparently see (and maybe hear) him, he'd have more success with making physical contact. 

Annoyingly, his hand just wafted through the unseeing teen like he was made of colored air. That was... annoyingly regular. 

Both talking to Tim and waving his hand in his face had yielded no result. Figures that the kid would need the one thing he couldn't do to snap out of whatever it was that was happening. 

A minute later nothing had changed and he'd found a pencil. He poked the boy between the eyes experimentally with the eraser. Tim's fluffy head rocked back and forth the smallest bit from the slight impact. 

Glad that he'd found a way to touch him, he poked him again. And then again. 

~A few pokes later~

The kid blinked. Twice. 

"Uh, Tim?"

Hopefully that had worked. Tim seemed to be there again, the blank look leaving his eyes.

"Jason Todd knows my name." 

He raised an eyebrow. 

 

Somehow he got the distinct impression that the kid hadn't meant to say that out loud. The awestruck expression of the clearly still somewhat absent boy was a bit of a giveaway. 

Well, that and the fact that as soon as Tim saw that he'd heard the excited blurt, he'd turned slightly red. 

(Well, slightly red for a normal person. For Tim’s ridiculously pale complexion it was probably a full blown cherry-red cloud of embarrassment). 

Trying to disguise his laugh as a snort of amusement, he stepped away from the apparently starstruck boy. Figures that the replacement would be a fanboy. 

"You gonna be okay kid?"

Tim seemed to be actively trying to keep his mouth closed as he nodded vigorously, black hair flopping everywhere.

Wow. The kid was downright adorable. He was not prepared for his baby brother to be this cute. 

Tim continued to stare at him with massive blue eyes. 

Okay, despite what Tim said, the boy was clearly not fine. It must have shown on Jason’s face because Tim's lips slipped open, spouting his thoughts to the world.

"That's really nice for him to be worried for me, especially considering that I'm not the dead one."

Okaay. So his thought filter seemed to be broken. And now he was just saying whatever he happened to be thinking. Aaand he didn't appear to be aware of this fact. This should be interesting.

"How is he here anyway? Did he not die?"

Clearly the boy hadn't managed to get a good look at him yet. 

(Yes, he knew that he looked different. And not just because he was transparent (though that was a dead giveaway). His eyes were green tinted, a little more then the rest of him, which also had a pale green hue. There was also the addition of a streak of white hair in his forelock, which kept throwing him off whenever he looked in a mirror for the first several months. And he was pretty sure that he had a faint green glow that could only be barely seen at night).

"I died all right."

The teen's expression morphed into embarrassment again when he realized what had happened.

"I said something out loud again, didn't I?"

"Yep."

"I need to stop doing that."

(He had a feeling that pretty much everything he'd said so far was not a conscious response.)

Tim's eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed thoughtfully. (It was adorable).

"Maybe I need to reboot my brain."

Jason cracked up. He couldn't stand it. That was hilarious.

Tim mumbled something about his laughing being "ridiculous because he wasn't alive so he shouldn't be doing anything." Which seemed like a reasonable, true statement, except it wasn't, so there was that small detail. Also it made the whole thing funnier so he started laughing harder.

It wasn't until the little Robin started reciting strings of code at an insane speed that he was able to calm down though to listen. He hadn't always been the best at coding, but he was good enough at it to realize that the kid was literally reciting a reboot program. 

He almost lost it again. 

Tim's eyes were squeezed shut. The "brain reboot sequence" ended. Blue eyes blinked open, panic flitting through them for a second until they landed on him, perched on top of his chair. 

The kid let out a calculated burst of air when he saw that he was most definitely there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alert: This is an excerpt from an unnamed fic I'm still working on.
> 
> I am apparently rather sick right now, and that clogged up both my sinuses and my brain. I do have a two-part fic that's in the process of editing that I wrote today and should be posting it on day's five and six as tomorrow's fic is already planned. 
> 
> All this lead up to me being unable to post my desired fic today, so I posted this instead. (I did write some of this today, so it totally counts.) 
> 
> If you guys liked it and want to hear more, let me know! It'll motivate me to actually finish the rest of it. 
> 
> With that, I'm going to bed because this headache is killing me.
> 
> Night Ya'll


	4. Lightsabers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May the Forth be with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Wars Day.

It was a bright, cheerful, sunny morning.

Bruce hated it. 

Patrol had been particularly unpleasant last night and the world didn’t seem to care. There it was, shining happily, enjoying it’s existence, while he was stuck with a sore back and a plethora of bruises down his right side. This was all ignoring the pounding headache he had to deal with thanks to stupid allergies. Batman didn’t have the time — or reputation — to have allergies because of this blasted weather. 

Needless to say, he wasn’t too thrilled at the prospect of going to WE. Maybe he could just work at home today? Yeah, that seemed like a good idea. Then he wouldn’t have to taint himself by entering that sunny atmosphere. 

(This was solely because of allergies. It was not that as Batman — and therefore darkness and night — he had a strong aversion to bright mornings. That would be ridiculous and Batman was not ridiculous.)

Alfred raised a skeptical eye when he was informed that WE work was going to be done from the home office today. The man had made some reference to the “quite wonderful day” it supposedly was and how it would be “beneficial to spend time outdoors.” He had, obviously, reminded him of his allergies. 

Alfred was not buying it.

Dang it.

Well, whether he saw reason or not was not his fault. Nothing could be done. Allergies are no thing to take lightly. 

Taking his plate of scrambled eggs up to his office, he sank back into his chair. The keys softly clicked under his fingers as he began the tasks for the day.

First, he needed to - wait, he hadn’t sent that email. Frowning, he opened the message. It was apparently sent from him, just an hour ago. It read that there was an unofficial holiday today and that everyone was to take the day off. 

There was nothing on his calendar that marked today as special, just the fourth day of May, so this hadn’t been a preset email he’d created in case he forgot about something important. 

This all pointed to one explanation.

Sabatoge.

And he had a feeling he knew exactly who was responsible, for on Tim’s calendar, today was marked mysteriously with “VERY IMPORTANT. DO NOT FORGET. Remember to prepare in advance.”

Tim was planning something. 

This was a possible cause for concern.

He finished his eggs in contemplative silence.

__________

 

Down in the cave, in a special hidden room that only a select few knew about, Tim stretched, his back popping multiple times. A contented sigh escaped his lips as he surveyed his work.

It was sheer perfection. 

Sheer, _sheer_ perfection. 

Oh the chaos that would descend upon the manor when his surprises were revealed.

It was going to be the best. day. ever.

A slightly sadistic smirk spread across his face when his computer beeped, alerting him of his first victim.

The chair creaked softly as he sat back, arms behind his head, prepared for the excitement that would soon follow. 

Heh heh heh.

 

___________

 

He was not excited.

At all.

If anyone was to ask, they would be told that “Jason Todd was absolutely not at all, for any reason, excited in any way, shape, or form.”

(Okay he might be a bit excited. But it was totally warranted.)

So, Timmers had been very vague, but the invitation to “drop by” today was _clearly_ a request for a partner in crime. Any reasonable person would think so.

Either way, he was just waiting for someone else to trip the quite obvious trap that Tim had set up in the cave. It was perfect. Nobody would actually assume anything to happen. It would just be too childish. Obviously.

Footsteps approached. He tried to squeeze his amazingly buff form into the shadow-y nook as tightly as he could. One of the (few) downsides of being so awe-inspiringly ripped was that it made hiding in small spaces rather difficult.

The Dickhead approached — clearly oblivious. When the acrobat not only triggered, but tripped over the pink yarn “wire” that stretched across the cave’s floor, he was hard pressed not to burst out laughing.

The confusion on Dick’s face was only amplified by the sudden blasting of trumpets that echoed through the cave’s audio system in a very familiar theme.

Oh yes. Today was going to be fun.

__________

 

Everything had been normal and then he tripped.

Tripping was unusual for him, as he was not exactly the most clumsy person on the planet, but there he was, Dick Grayson, the famed acrobat and hero Nightwing, on the ground. His only relief was that Jason wasn’t around to see. The idiot would get a massive kick out of it and probably bust a lung laughing before using it somehow as blackmail.

And then — TRUMPETS.

LOUD TRUMPETS.

THEY WERE EVERYWHERE.

WHAT.

He ran to the cave computer. There was no sign of tampering. And it WOULDN’T STOP.

It took him a good thirty seconds to realize that the music rocking the cave was actually the Star Wars theme. 

That was… different, to say the least.

The pink yarn was a dead giveaway that this was Tim’s doing. But why Star Wars? And why today?

Slipping his phone out of his pocket, he casually clicked it on.

_11:39_

_May, 4, 2019_

Oh. No.

He needed to escape. 

 ** _NOW_**.

 

__________

 

If Timmers didn’t give him video footage of this he wouldn’t be pleased in the slightest. Because that scene had been gold.

Dick had attempted to run out of the cave, but was stopped by the emergency flood doors. Now the poor man was doomed to listen to the Star Wars soundtrack — something the blue-eyed wonder apparently mildly despised. 

Tim was an evil genius and he loved it.

There had been enough time before the nearest door closed for him to grab his gear. (After all, one of the things that Bat-Bruce hated more then pop culture references was seeing the quiznaking Red Hood prance around in his fancy-pants manor and being unable to stop him.)

Sidling his way to Tim’s hole, (they couldn’t call it a nest because it was underground) he donned his uniform. (He’d left the hood and guns behind during his little multiverse travel earlier that day. After all, it wouldn’t do to freak out the super-kids out because of the weaponry. He’d seen how Robin had glared at him during his first adventure there.) 

A new feature had been added to his hood. It was simply titled “DVM” and had a little question asking if he wanted to activate it.

This was likely Tim’s doing, so there was no real danger in saying yes. One touch later, and it had been activated.

Almost instantly, it began modulating. Raspy breathing noises met his ears. 

WHAT. THE. HECK.

THISWASOFFICIALLYTHECOOLESTTHINGINTHEWORLDAHHHHH!!!

OH MAN. THE PRANKS HE COULD PULL WITH THIS. THE _REFERENCES_. 

One reference in particular came to mind. He sprinted the rest of the way to Tim’s nook.

__________

 

Tim was avidly watching his oldest brothers valiant attempts to escape the cave when a thrilled person shot through the door, breathing heavily.

“Dude,” And my, my, wasn’t that an interesting thing to hear said in Darth Vader’s voice, “you have got to be the most amazing little genius I have ever met. WHAT IN THE COSMOS?!! WHY DID YOU ONLY DO THIS NOW?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY- wait. Are those… _lightsabers?!!?!_ ”

There went his resolution to not smirk when Jay found out.

“Yup.”

“ **DUDE**.”

“I know.”

“ ** _DUDE_**.”

“Yep.”

“WAAAA!!!!”

“I know. I’m a genius.”

“No KIDDING. HOW THE HECK DID YOU- YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON’T EVEN CARE.”

Jason proceeded to fanboy in Darth Vader Mode for the next ten minutes. Despite the fact that he was the one who built the glorious weapons, Jay seemed to understand even more then he did. (Well, there was the fact that Jay and Roy had made a set of them last year, but those didn’t have all the special effects that his did.)

The lightsaber was glorious. It buzzed a light green, pulsing with (probably slightly unstable) plasma. Jason’s experimental swings activated the satifying “zzzwwwwooo” sound. It was a work of art. As were the deactivated red and blue swords. 

(Maybe Bruce would let them use them on patrol. Only for super serious situations though. And definitely not reenacting epic battles with Hood on the gloriously dingy gotham rooftops.) 

Suddenly, Jay swiveled to face him.

“Do you think you can get the baby brat down here? I have an idea.”

An evil grin lit up his face and he scooted his chair a bit closer.

“ _Oh_? Pray tell?”

____________

 

There is clearly something wrong with the cave. He was just going to find out where Grayson had been for the last hour and a half when suddenly all the lights went out in the cave hallway.

He wasn’t scared. Darkness was nothing unfamiliar to him. He had been raised in an environment of flickering torches, the stench of death, and haunting dark.

That was a different darkness though, _wild and evil, ready to tear into him with razor sharp claws, inescapable, ready to extinguish his soul like a pathetic ember…_ \- No. This darkness was calm. It was safe and solid. There was nothing to fear, so he was not afraid. 

A strange sound came from behind him, almost like a rustle or breath. Faint, but audible in the silence.

“Grayson? Is that you?”

Squinting did nothing to clear up the picture. Two knives settled between his fingers — just in case. 

A rough sound, almost like a laugh, vibrated in the air.

That’s when the breathing started.

It was low, raspy, and inhuman.

For someone of a weaker mind, it would likely be identified as scary. 

The sound approached. Heavy footfalls accompanied it.

The darkness felt a little less safe now, but he wasn’t scared.

“Drake, if this is one of your pathetic attempts to scare me you should know that you have, unsurprisingly, failed.”

The intruder continued to draw near.

“Who are you?”

Pause.

Silence — except for the mechanical breathing.

“Damian,”

They knew his name.

“I. Am. Your. Father.”

…

…

…

What???

“What do you speak of, fool?”

The lights abruptly flashed on, temporarily blinding him.

When his vision cleared, he saw that the intruder was…

“…Red Hood??!”

Hood pulled his helmet off to flash him a grin.

“Demon spawn.”

There seemed to be a joke here that he was not getting, as Hood proceeded to crack himself up at nothing.

“Oh man- that like- _and it actually works! Ha!”_

He left the laughing man in the hallway alone. Obviously this was some kind of nonsense that Drake had engineered to attempt to traumatize him.

(It hadn’t worked by the way. There had never even been a hint of fear in him. Certainly not.)

Whatever nonsense he was babbling on about had proven to be annoying. Every singe time, for the rest of the day that Todd saw him, he would say that same line in a strange voice;

“Damian, I am your father.”

It made no sense whatsoever and he was determined to have it ended.

A ring at the door meant Father was home. Time to end this pathetic annoyance.

__________

When he had received a panicked call from his eldest, pleading with him to “save himself” and “escape while you can” he had wasted no time in making a quick exit from the manor — allergies or no allergies.

The day had been spent in relative peace at the blessedly silent and abandoned WE facility. 

Now, Alfred had informed him that dinner was to be served in twenty minutes. It was not a request.

The large doors swung open to reveal a short boy of Arabic heritage.

“Father.”

He raised an eyebrow, but just slightly.

“Damian.” 

This looked to be interesting.

“I demand that you have Drake and Todd desist and explain their idiotic actions.”

Tim came up behind Damian. 

_Was he holding a glowing sword?_

Mentally preparing himself, he dared to ask,

“What actions?”

Abruptly, Damian’s eyes widened and he pointed frantically at something behind him.

Only feeling slightly suspicious, he looked in the direction of the outstretched arm. There was nothing there.

He turned back to his youngest with a sigh, opening his mouth to say…

“DAMIAN. I AM YOUR FATHER.”

He closed his mouth. He hadn’t said a word.

Damian was enraged.

Tim was full-out cackling.

Alfred was silent.

Jason pushed his way past him, helmet in place, and gave Tim a fist bump.

The two of them followed Alfred into the kitchen, savoring their victory.

Tim stopped and turned around with a question on his face.

“Can we use the lightsabers on patrol?”

Eyeing the glowing stick, he tried to remember what little he knew of this fandom.

The look of unbridled excitement on the pale boy’s face made his decision for him.

“Absolutely not.”

 

That’s when the protests began.

 

He needed a coffee and some Advil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you know how I wan't feeling great yesterday? Well, as it turns out, I have gotten chicken pox and I'm not happy. The next few chapters might not be my best work as my brain is pretty sluggish right now.


	5. Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Cass don't like spiders, Damian does, and Tim is just a casual observer, albeit a tired one with a thing for couches.

Dick wasn't sure what he was expecting when he entered the lounge, but it wasn't this.

Cass and Jason were standing in the middle of the room with death glares on their faces. Tim was sitting on top of the nearby couch calmly watching the two nineteen-year-olds.

The gun and batarang Dick could clearly see were both in direct violation of the "No Weapons In The Lounge" rule. Thankfully, the two teens weren't glaring at each other, but at a small black speck on the Oriental rug about the size of a half-quarter.

"Uh, guys? What's going on?"

He was ignored by the both of them.

Tim decided to answer for the duo, informing him in a neutral tone, "There's a spider."

A spider?

Cautiously, Dick approached the black dot. It was, indeed, a medium-sized arachnid. The creature moved as he came closer.

Jason hissed a warning.

Dick retreated to the relative safety of Tim's couch. He remarked, "I didn't know Cass had arachnophobia."

Tim shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the twin death glares directed his way from the two most dangerous Bat clan members. "I guess she does. Probably has too many legs or something."

Cass nodded. "Too many legs. Eyes." She narrowed her own in return. "Fangs. Creepy."

Tim surprisingly didn't move to contradict her or regale her with spider facts.

What was most surprising to Dick was that Jason was here, at the manor. Last he had known, his estranged brother had been steadfastly staying away from anything bat-related.

But here he was, pointing a gun, and not at Tim, but at a bug. He'd known that Jason didn't like spiders back when he was Robin, but he hadn't realized that Jay could get this offended by them.

Tim, the little blue-eyed mind reader, answered his unasked question.

"Apparently, some stuff happened during Jason's time with Ra's and Talia that involved spiders."

Jason didn't seem thrilled with Tim's simple explanation, promptly adding, "Not just spiders. Deadly giant mutant spiders. And acid. It was the most horrifying thing I've ever witnessed, let alone felt. Needless to say, I don't exactly care for them much anymore."

After staring for a second at his little brother, because that was a TON of information that he hadn't even remotely known about, Dick nodded like it made total sense. He inched further away from the bug on the floor. "So . . . what do we do with it?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "We kill it. Obviously."

Cass nodded in agreement, never taking her eyes off the spot.

The two of them sat on the relative safety of the couch as Cass and Jason began debating on whether a bullet or a batarang would be the better killing tool.

Leaning over to where Tim was balanced, he whispered, "Do you have any ideas that don't involve using weapons?"

Tim looked contemplatively at the bug for a minute before responding.

"Alfred."

Oh. Oh yes. Alfred was perfect.

Tim slipped off the couch silently, making his way towards the door with all the stealthyness required of a bat. Not even a moment later, the teen was gone, leaving him alone with two armed and deadly younger siblings. 

After a moment, Dick chuckled awkwardly. "Umm, guys? Do you think we could put the weapons away? Please?"

Both replied in scary unison.

"NO!!"

 

__________

 

 

She was looking for Cass. She'd found this absolutely  _adorable_ video of a duckling that kept following people around and quacking. It was _totally_ cutest thing _ever_.

Suddenly, Tim came flying out of nowhere and almost knocked her over.

"Tim!"

"Sorry!"

What was going on?

"What's the rush?"

Tim turned to her with urgency.

"Do you know where Alfred is?"

"Ummm... I think he's in the kitchen?"

"Great."

And with that, he ran down the hall, leaving her alone with a growing list of questions.

She yelled after him, "Do you know where Cass is?"

A faint response of "Lounge" was all she got before Tim vanished through one of the doors.

Well, at least she had a destination.

 

__________

 

Dick shifted awkwardly on the couch that Tim had formerly occupied, watching the stalemate between a teeny spider and two near-adults.

Far be it from him to spook the bug and sent off the chaos that would surely ensue as a result.

However, the chaos decided to come to him in the form of a certain energetic, purple-loving blonde.

Said blonde rushed through the door, hair awry and panting for breath.

"Cass, Cass! You have _got_ to see this! It's, like, the cutest thing I've ever seen in my _life_ , oh my word and- wait. What's going on? _Jason?_ "

Dick volunteered a slightly timid hi. Nobody else responded.

Steph followed Jason and Cass's gazes to the ground, eyes widening as she saw the object of their attention. Her expression turned from puzzled to sympathetic.

Cass had clearly confided her fears to her.

But the sympathy had been short lived, as the sight of the big bad Red Hood holding a tiny spider at gunpoint was completely priceless.

So Steph did what any reasonable Bat-person would do.

She took pictures.

 

__________

 

Alfred looked up from where he was chopping the vegetables for tonight's dinner as young Master Tim skidded into the kitchen and nearly avoided crashing into the counter.

"Jason . . .  Cass . . . there's a spider . . . lounge . . . they have weapons . . . help." Tim gasped out.

Alfred had grabbed a nearby towel and cleaned his hands before the teenager had finished his frantic summary.

Mater Damian sauntered bravely into the kitchen as he untied his apron, casting a look of disdain upon noticing Master Tim. Tim scowled back, looking as menacing as he could while leaning on a counter, panting. It was a truly terrifying stance. 

The younger boy scoffed before turning his attention back to Alfred. "Pennyworth, I require your assistance."

Alfred replied calmly, walking out of the kitchen, "I'm afraid, Master Damian, that the dinner is to take precedence over any other tasks."

A glare was directed towards Master Timothy. 

"Then why are you leaving to help this imbecile?"

A single eyebrow was raised.

"Because your siblings are being threatened. It so appears that they are _completely_ incapable of saving themselves, so I have been implored to rescue them."

This intriuged the boy, and he immediately deemed himself necessary to the rescue of his older siblings, despite having no idea what exactly it was that they needed rescuing from.

Timothy huffed from behind them, but obediently followed them from the kitchen.

Hopefully there wouldn't have been any severe injuries by the time they arrived.

 

__________

 

They arrived at the lounge to see Jason and Cass in the same position that Tim had left them in. The gun and batarang were still trained on the spider and Dick was curled up on his couch. That needed to change.

Steph had arrived, and was also on his couch, avidly taking pictures.Why were they all taking his couch?! He had rightfully lay claim to it! Besides, there were tons of other couches nearby, they had no reason to take his!

Dramatically, he flew towards his couch, determined to reclaim his territory. After a great deal of scrambling and complaints from Steph about him messing up her video, he managed to reclaim his perch and was now shooting dejected glares at the intruders.

The Demon Spawn made his “-Tt-“ noise, and sneered at him. He fumed silently.

Damian was quickly distracted by the presence of Jason and approached the spider.

“Todd. What do you think you’re doing.”

Jason growled, “What does it look like, kid? Fending off a spider, obviously.”

“Tt. I always knew you weren’t mentally stable, but this is a new low. What has the creature done to you? It simply exists, and yet you show such hostility towards the innocent being.” The boy knelt down next to the bug. “I will not allow it.”

With that, he scooped the spider up gently, cupping it in his hand and ignoring the shocked and offended noises that Jay and Cass made. Dick made a panicked noise and made as if to move off the couch when Jay continued to point the gun quite firmly at the arachnid, in spite of it residing in Damian’s hand.  The young boy glared at Jason’s outstretched firearm, but deemed it inconsequential and turned to Alfred instead. 

“Pennyworth, I require a suitable place to keep the poor creature. It’s clearly traumatized. Do you know of anything I could use?”

“I believe I do.”

Jason and Cass looked up at Alfred with horror on their faces, Jason sputtering out, “Alfred, you can’t be serious about letting him keep that thing!”

Cass added, “Bad. Must go.”

Alfred replied smoothly, "I believe that Master Damian can take care of it. However, he is not allowed to bring it outside of the parameters of his room. Am I understood, Master Damian?"

Damian nodded, smugly. "Assuredly, Pennyworth. Now let us depart."

"Of course, young sir.”

Tim watched in mild shock as they left.

 

___________

 

Not a word was spoken until the door shut behind them. Then, everyone broke out into chatter at once.

"Should I be worried that Damian has a fondness for spiders?”

“I can’t believe Alfred just let him keep it!”

“This is _totally_ going in the video yearbook.”

“Not safe. Spider bad. Evil.”

Tim cut through the indignant chatter,  “Well, who’s telling the demon brat that he cannot keep it, because I’m not.”

Silence.

Dick hoped that Damian would stick to his resolution to keep the spider out of sight. He didn’t need to deal with a more volatile reaction when it reappeared.

Abruptly, Jason shoved his gun back into it’s holster. Dick eyed the weapon suspiciously, he really didn’t like Jason around the others — especially Tim. The man was too much of a wild card to really ever be considered safe. Jason’s departure from Gotham was more of a relief then he cared to admit. 

“I swear, if I ever see that disgusting thing again I’m killing it. Spiders are the most despicable, evil, abhorrent, detestable, revolting, vile creatures to crawl on this planet. How someone can find them even remotely bearable, much less _intriguing_ is beyond me. As long as that odious beast remains alive I’m never coming here again. Not even if Alfred begs.”

They all stared at him. Sometimes it was far too easy to forget that Jason had a bigger vocabulary then all of them combined. Jason scowled at the lack of reaction and agreement.

“Also, I’m disowning all of you because you just sat there and watched it and were completely useless.”

“Well, technically, Bruce has already disowned you, so you can’t really disown us,” Tim neutrally observed from his perch.

“Don’t care. I’m disowning all of you anyway.” There was a slight pause. “Except Alfred. I don’t disown Alfred. But the rest of you can go die in a hole for all I care.” He stalked away. “Hope to never see you again.” 

Their eyes collectively followed him to the door. Without warning, he turned around and smirked evilly at Tim. 

“Actually, _Replacement_ , I think we still have a few things to… _resolve_ sometime, hmm?”

Dick gave him a cold glare, warning him to stay away from his brother. Steph did likewise next to him. Tim folded his arms defensively and glowered at the older teen. 

Pleased with his implied threat, Jason cackled and swept out the door, leaving them in tense silence. 

Dick rose and began to follow his younger “brother.” Making threats against Tim like that was unacceptable. Especially in the manor, someplace that he really had no right to be. Cass intercepted him with an outstretched arm.

“Cass, let me go. I need to talk with him.”

She shook her head.

“No. Stay.”

He watched helplessly as the asian girl walked out, closing the door behind her firmly. A worried and determined look was exchanged with Steph, and they both headed for the monitor room.

Tim remained behind, looking at the door Cass had disappeared behind with a strange expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate spiders. My amazing beta Kyra_Marmora is insane and loves them.


	6. Spider: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the spider incident.

The door closed behind him with a satisfying thump. Jason hummed happily to himself as he proceeded towards the manor's front doors. 

Today was a fine day (other then the incident with that loathsome beast from the pits of Tartarus.)

He had successfully disowned his “siblings” and had been able to freak both Dickybird and Blondie out by “threatening” his replacement. 

Really, that guy jumped to conclusions waayyy too fast for someone who used to be Batman. All he'd done was give Tim a smirk and remind him that they still had to talk about a few things (which was very true.) Nothing too ominous or worrying (even if his tone of voice was not exactly comforting.) But hey, any chance to freak them out must be taken, right?

Now Dickhead would probably come stalking after him, all prepared to rant at him and defend precious, helpless, innocent little Timmy from the evil, vengeful, pit-crazed murderer known as the Red Hood. 

He scoffed. Tim knew exactly why they needed to talk, and it wasn't what the golden boy thought it was. Far from it, in fact. The reason he needed to have a little chat with Timothy was because-

Footsteps sounded behind him. And here comes the confrontation. Best turn around, just in case the blue bird thought he would talk with his fists.

It wasn't Dick. It was Cassandra. Now wasn't that interesting? He would've bet that ‘Wing was the one following him.

He spoke up first. "What do you want?"

Cassandra simply shrugged.

They both stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Then Jason sighed and broke the quiet.

"I'm leaving."

There was no reaction from Cassandra.

Jason shifted, not sure how to handle this. After a moment, he said with a hint of a threat in his tone, "Better keep an eye on Babybird."

Cassandra finally moved, much to Jason's secret relief. She smiled faintly at him. It was her turn to talk.

"Is safe."

Jason was puzzled and slightly suspicious, but replied with, "For now." He turned back around and walked forward. Cassandra followed. 

She shook her head as she stepped up next to him, her jet black hair flying back and forth. "Won't hurt."

Jason threw his hands in the air. "What the heck are you talking about? I could kill the kid in my sleep!"

Cass shook her head again. "No."

Jason scoffed, slightly incredulous. "What? No?! Are you doubting me?!"

Cassandra replied with conviction. "Won't hurt. Love brother."

"Are you kidding me?! I tried to kill him three times! Stupid idiot won't just die already, though!"

She waved his remark off casually. "Past. Won't hurt."

They reached the manor doors, Jason subtly giving her a side glance, carefully evaluating her. He wondered if she knew. And if she did, would she tell everyone else? He wasn't sure.

"Don't worry. Our secret."

He gaped at her for a moment, then shook it off, exhaling in relief. Honestly, her secret ability wasn't that surprising, having known what Jason had already discovered about her, based on his observations and what he'd heard.

She smirked. "Your job to tell others."

Okay. That was surprising.

"What?! No way! They'll just think it's a trick!"

She just smiled, giving a soft hum.

Jason turned and walked out the door.

He whistled as he walked down the drive. Hmm. She'd been pretty cool. Maybe he wouldn't disown her. Besides, he'd always kinda wanted a sister. He whistled louder. This could be fun.

__________

Dick stared anxiously at the monitor screen that was recording what was happening in the hallway where Jason and Cass were located. Steph tapped her fingers on the desk where she stood beside him, trying to contain her worry.

There was no sound, but they could see everything that was going on. 

From what Dick could tell, it didn't appear that Jason bore Cass any ill will. However, he knew just how well someone could put up an appearance. And considering that this was Jason, that was definitely a possibility.

Dick clenched his fist. No harm would come to his family, even if that meant taking out Jason. None. 

Looking back at the screen, he watched as Jason walked out the front door of the manor. This only served to firm his opinion all the more. He would do whatever it took to protect his family. After all, he wasn't a hero just for the laughs. He was a shield.

And he'd be a good one.

After all, that's what he was here for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Cassandra. She's amazing.
> 
> Also, chicken pox is terrible. Don't get it. It sucks.


	7. Sleepwalking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian sleepwalks. The others talk.

“Did you know that Damian sleepwalks?” Steph asked one day, when they were all having a rather suspiciously chaos-free Lounge.

Damian was out with Bruce, so that could explain for some of it, but it was still bound to go downhill at some point.

She was surprised by the general noises of affirmation.

“Really?” She pouted. “I thought I was finally going to be the one who knew something the others didn’t.”

“Nah, Sorry Blondie. Even I knew that. And I don’t even live here.”

“Wait what?”

“Well, it all started one night…”

~~~

The rain was pouring down like the sky was crying after getting broken up with. There were sky-tears everywhere. It was crazy.

He was just getting out of a nice, hot shower when he heard the strange noise coming from the living room of his eighth-favorite safehouse. He was instantly alert.

Grabbing his pajamas and his trusty guns, he bravely traversed into-

~~~

“Seriously Jason?”

“Shuush Replacement, I’m telling a story.”

~~~

Now. Where was he?

Oh yes, he was discovering the source of the mystery noise.

Creeping into the kitchen, he pointed the firearms at the intruder.

Sadly, it wasn’t a group of thugs sent to kill him. He could have fought them then. But no. It was a drenched kid in a very spiky Robin costume.

Bruce would still be angry at him for shooting the kid - even if it was because the kid was trespassing on his rightful property.

After a very short and boring conversation, he decided to let the brat stay out of the generousness of his heart-

~~~

“He blackmailed you?!”

“No! We had a very boring conversation and then I decided to let him stay.”

“Riiight.”

~~~

After the boring conversation, he went to bed. Much later, he was awoken by an offending guest of wind that was far too cold to ever be in his apartment.

Once again leaving safety and warmth, he checked the room he had left the demon kid in.

The window was open and there, standing dramatically, was the little devil himself. All silhouetted like his dramatic daddy too.

Anyway, he went over and asked what the brat was doing. Said brat declared a very ominous thing while standing on the ledge.

“They are coming. Prepare.”

That was when the benevolent and very handsome gunslinger spotted the glinting shuriken in the small gloved hands.

Thankfully, he was able to catch the boy who had promptly fallen over asleep, in a totally ridiculous and dramatic way-

~~~

“Cause you’re never dramatic.”

“Stop interrupting me Replacement! You’ll get your turn.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now shut up. I wasn’t finished.”

Dick spoke up from one of the many couches.

“I don’t know Little Wing, that sounded like a good ending to me.”

“Shows how much you know Dickhead.”

“Thanks for letting me go next Jason,” Tim cleared his throat in preparation.

“Hey! I wasn’t done!”

“It was a normal night…”

~~~

Just like any other night. He had gotten in bed and was falling asleep when-

~~~

“Woah, woah, woah, kid.”

“Seriously, Jason?!”

“That’s a normal night? Heck, no. For you “normal nights” consist of you staying up and working on a screen with an unhealthy amount of caffeine. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“Fine.”

~~~

So it was a slightly unusual night, but that’s not important because he was trying to actually sleep. It was going rather well and he was drifting off when there was a large noise.

Now, most large noises in the middle of the night meant that his insane brothers were doing something dangerous again. He wasn’t all that inclined to get out of bed again to go see what the problem was, as that would inevitably lead to him getting involved.

The odd thing was that the mysterious noise was suspiciously close to him, so he made the mistake of sitting up to look in the direction of the noise.

This was a mistake because his bedroom doors were wide open and there was a small, dark probably human figure standing in the center of the doorway. Said figure glared at him with eyes that promised death, and said only one thing.

“Soon.”

As soon as that had been said, he blinked, and the demon child was gone. But the damage had already been done. There was no way he could get back to sleep after that kind of event.

~~~

“Okay, I’ll admit. That is at least a semi-decent reason to not sleep, considering he could have disappeared to into your room and then just stalked you for the rest of the night while you sat there and worked, oblivious to his presence as he lay in wait to kill you.”

Dick rolled his eyes at Jason’s words.

“He’s not going to try to kill you in your sleep.”

Everyone stared at him, clearly disbelieving. He shrugged, “It’s true. He’ll want to defeat you in fair combat or something. No honor otherwise or something.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah. Cause assassins are very worried about honor and fair fights.”

“Not helping.”

“Wasn’t meant to.”

Dick facepalmed. Why were his siblings (Jason) so difficult!

“Hey, um, how about I tell you about how I found out that Dami sleepwalks?”

Steph grinned, “We are so putting these in like, some scrapbook of stories or something.”

“Like a bat family log?”

“Yes! Dick, start talking. Go. Now. No interruptions”

~~~

He had invited-

~~~

“I would like to object to the name “bat family” as I hate all of you and I’m only here because disobeying Alfred gets you killed.”

“JASON.” It was a cumulative reprimand.

“She said no interruptions.”

“Which is precisely why I interrupted, babybird.”

There was a collective facepalm.

 ~~~

HehadinvitedDamiantocometohisroomandsnuggle.

~~~

Jason hadn’t interrupted. This was good. He managed a whole sen-

“Could you say that again? It was a bit rushed.”

Would duct-taping his mouth shut be a bad idea?

~~~

He had invited Dami to come to his room and snuggle. When Damian didn’t come-

~~~

“Imagine that.”

Duct tape sounded very appealing.

 ~~~

\- he went to go find him. The boy wasn’t in his bed, and he wasn’t in the Lounge or the Cave either, which was curious. After looking around in the other places his littlest brother liked to hide, he gave up and started wandering through the manor to look for clues.

It wasn’t long before he found signs that Damian had been around - as in, there were no signs. Within fifteen minutes, he’d found him.

~~~

“Fifteen minutes?! Wow Dickybird, I’ve seen you track down criminals like Crane or Harvey in less time.”

“Jason?”

“Yes, Blondie?”

“Kindly shut up.”

“Well, if you put it that way…”

“…”

“I can continue, right?”

“…”

~~~

Okay, so he’d found Dami patrolling the hallway. His eyes were open, but he didn’t seem to be looking at any one thing, which was slightly worrying.

Oh, and ‘cause he was holding a katana.

When he was sure that the kid wasn’t going to attack him in his sleep-

~~~

“…”

Was Jason actually not going to interrupt him on that?

Steph had to be blackmailing him somehow. He wouldn’t just stop because someone asked him nicely.

~~~

-he guided the boy back to his bed, where he then fell asleep. They might have snuggled a bit but it was very warranted, as Dami had probably had a nightmare or something and that’s why he was out in the hallway looking for comfort.

~~~

“With a katana?”

Dick shrugged.

“I have to agree with Babybird, that doesn’t seem like a very comfort-seeking action.”

Steph stretched her limbs out on the couch, pushing a squawking Tim into an ever-smaller space. When Tim was settled again, he gave her a hurt look. Then he seemed to realize something.

“Steph?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t live here.”

“Yeah?”

“So how do you know Damian sleepwalks?”

She grinned sharply.

“Bruce told me.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“What.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A spider attacked my computer yesterday and held it hostage.
> 
> I am not going to give up on this (even if I keep posting it really REALLY late) and you WILL have 31 stories by the time May is over.


	8. You have 10 new messages from Babybird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim texts Jason. He's a bit low on sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if the formatting on this is weird. There's not a lot other then "dialogue" (texts). The messages from Tim are on the left, while Jason's are on the right. Also, outgoing messages look like normal text and the incoming messages are italicized. I find it annoying in other text fics when they put the name of the person texting before every single text (unless it's a group chat) so I'm trying out a different style.
> 
> My amazing friend Kyra_Marmora has helped me come up with this stupendous material. She's quite fabulous.

You have _10_ New Messages from _Babybird_

 

Babybird:

_Jay_

_Jaybird_

_Jason_

_Hi_

_How are you?_

_Did you go to that thing last night?_

_Where they blew stuff up_

_I was there_

_It was cool._

_I liked it._

 

Jay raised an eyebrow as he read the texts. He typed in a response.

 

Are you talking about the bomb last night?

_Yeah. Were you there?_

…

…

Tim I set the bomb.

I was the bomber.

_Oh_

_…_

_So you were there_

Yes.

_Was it fun?_

Yes.

Hey Tim?

_Uh-huh?_

_What?_

_Is something wrong?_

_Do you need help?_

_Oh no. Did you get yourself stuck somewhere and you need an extraction?_

No

Sorry, I’m fine

False alarm

_Oh_

_Okay_

_Hey, you may want to be careful_

I will be

Why?

_There’s sirens going off and I think the bay doors are opening_

_Yup._

_There went the flag_

_Are you safe?_

_You should be safe_

Umm.

Yeah Timmy

I’m safe

Are you okay?

_Yeah._

_I’m fine_

_I’m locked down so the doors opening is not going to bother me_

Tim

_Yeah?_

When did you last sleep?

_I dunno_

_Its okay though_

_I’m fine_

_I’m tethered_

_I just told you that_

Tim. Sleep.

_Why would I do that?_

_Sleep is for the undead._

 

He snorted. Tim was going to hate this when he woke up. It was going to be awesome.

 

_Good_

_Somebody caught the dog_

_What was I supposed to be doing again_

Sleeping

I just said that

_I was supposed to be doing something_

_It was really important_

You were supposed to be sleeping

_Do you know what it was?_

Hey Timmy, there’s this thing called sleep.

And it’s kinda really important.

So sleep.

_No no no no_

_I told you_

_Only undead people sleep_

Fine.

I killed you via teasing earlier

Then the bomb killed you again

Ta-da

You’re officially undead

Sleep

_Oh_

_You did?_

Yes

_Oh_

_Did it hurt?_

I don’t know

SLEEP

_I cant_

_The cookies need saving_

Alfred’s got the cookies

Sleep

_Are you sure_

Yep

_Because you have to be really careful with them_

_They’re very delicate_

_And I don’t want them to break_

_Space is pretty_

_It’s sparkly_

_Would you check on the cookies?_

_I want to make sure they’re alright_

_I like baby dragons_

Alf’s already got the cookies cooling on a rack

Baby dragons are awesome

Now, Sleep.

_Okay_

_Bey_

_Bye_

Bye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I would like to thank Kyra_Marmora for being so helpful with material for this chapter. 
> 
> Sleep-deprived Tim texting Jay is one of my favorite things to write. If you guys liked this chapter I might write another one like this, so let me know in comments!
> 
> I am going to get back on track. I will. Eventually. Maybe today.


	9. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Music was a language. Cass understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write more like how Cass thinks (or how I think she thinks), so this is going to be a bit different from the others.

Music was art. Language.

Cass understood it.

It was words. A story. The sounds made colors.

This song moved her. So she moved.

 

Light. Not very bright. But there.

Soft but heavy.

Silver words.

They dipped deep.

Echos.

Light warped by water, mist.

Whirlpool of sound.

 

A river. Flowing.

She flowed.

Arms and legs together.

Faster. Spinning.

Hope. Longing.

 

A breath.

 

Gentle. Delicate. Like a mist.

Spinning.

Arms raised.

Strands weaving together.

Braided. Twisting. Beautiful.

 

Heartbeat. Drums.

Her heart moved with it.

Down. In out. Repeat.

Pulsing.

Leaping and straining.

Holding tight.

Life. Breath. Dance.

Freedom. Open. But in the darkness.

There was hope.

Loud quiet sounds.

Bringing light. A candle. Burning. Flickering.

Breathing. Beating. Moving.

The heartbeat stopped. Then it was back.

There were light sounds. Echos.

Her arms brushed the pockets of air to replicate it.

Swirling. Twisting. Spinning.

 

_pause_

 

_Silence._

It took a breath.

So did she.

 

Then it was back. Fast. Dramatic.

It swirled. Many heartbeats together.

She spun. Arms out - in - out.

Feet landed. 

The song was like a bird. It flew, but never strayed far from the ground.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

She let it carry her.

Shades of gray. They weaved around her and into her.

Silver high notes. Quieter.

It was dark. Slow. Shadows.

Silver and gray.

Flying.

Air. Wind. Water.

Pulse.

She flew.

Around. In and out.

Leaping. Swinging. Alive.

Heartbeat.

Then it was over.

 

Silence.

 

Music was a language.

Dance was a language.

They worked in harmony.

She understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Cass is dancing to is "Breathe" by Fleurie. Go check it out, it's really cool. I listened to it the whole time while writing this. If you can find out what part she's dancing at what point I will be super happy. 
> 
> Dance is a different language, you can't really describe it on paper without it becoming stilted with the sentences and words. That's why I wrote it from Cass' perspective. Anyone who dances knows that you can try to put that feeling into words, but if you don't do it right it looses it's magic. Some of you have to know what I'm talking about, right? I've danced this song a ton, so I hope I did it justice.


	10. "Little Robin"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason finds himself in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar face.

 

The fact that beeping woke him up made him mad. Why was it always the beeping? It was so cliche that he decided to ignore it. He wasn’t going to succumb to cliche-ness. Ever.

Then somebody entered the room. Well, they didn’t really enter, he just became aware of their presence in the room.

Crap. He only knew of one group of people with that talent.

Batman and his Bat-Brats.

Now he had to choose between faking sleep while whoever it was stared at him, probably fully aware that he was awake, or opening his eyes to glare at them and in the process being forced into interaction that he had been steadfastly avoiding for almost a year.

Why did the universe hate him so much to put him in these situations?!

Maybe he would wait and see if he could figure out which bat it was by their presence. Tim would be typing within ten minutes, Steph would take out her phone, Cass would probably come closer to see how he was (she was ridiculously nice like that), Dick would either call him out on not being asleep or fall for it and probably start talking to him or glaring at him depending on what he’d done.

That was another problem. He was having trouble remembering why he needed to be in the hospital in the first place. Hopefully it wasn’t Bruce or Demon Brat in the room. They’d both be utterly useless in helping him figure out what had happened and what was going on. Too judgmental and stubborn. Only their version of the story is the truth.

The worst part was that they’d both just be completely silent and stare at him or call him out — both things that he’d rather avoid. He chooses to wait and take inventory.

That’s odd. He’s still wearing his suit - guns included. The plethora of weapons he carries are pressing into his back uncomfortably. Ow. That knife needs a better sheath. Clearly. Hopefully that won’t cause trouble if he needs to fight his way out of here. But the fact that he still has his guns is worrying him. It’s not that he’s upset that they’re not confiscated, but it’s NOT something that Batman would leave him with - much less a hospital. But if he’s not in a hospital what’s the deal with the beeping thingy? The temptation to open his eyes is growing - but he needs to know who this Bat is before that happens.

Currently all signs point to this being a med bay in some hero base. Either one that isn’t a bat base, and so they’ve left his guns because they’ve heard of his reputation, or he’s in a bat base and they’re containing him so his guns are useless or they’re afraid of what would happen when they try to take them out. His helmet is off, so he’s going to wager that they’re waiting on someone like Tim to hack into his suit to release the guns without them getting shocked or gassed or something. Technically that theory works for whoever it is that’s got him in a med bay.

His helmet was taken first, so whoever this is has more of a curiosity as to his identity then a worry about disarming him. Probably not a bat base then. Unless it’s Tim’s base and Tim wanted to make sure he was fine and didn’t care if he kept his guns or not. That wouldn’t explain why he still had his domino on though - unless this was a Titans med bay (or whatever team Tim was working with currently) and Tim wasn’t about to reveal his identity to a bunch of “strangers.”

The faint buzz of gauntlet holograph tech activating came from where the bat was located. That had to be Tim. So, he was either in one of Tim’s bases, one of the Titan bases, or somewhere else and Tim had arrived and was waiting for him to wake up so that way he could bust him out of whoever they were.

Well, now that he was probably not in danger, he didn’t have to worry about faking sleep any longer. But something was still bugging him.

What had happened?

If he woke up and Tim had to brief him on what happened to him, that’d be embarrassing. There was no way he was opening his eyes until he had some idea of what had happened. All he had to do was think. Really hard. Until he remembered.

That was easier thought then done.

There was something about a mugger, flaming something (hair?), a weird noise, Roy yelling something geeky and nonsensical (and probably a reference), and then a really hard landing.

Okay, so he was going to bet that he was on a mission with the Outlaws — explaining the mugger and the flaming hair — and then there had been some kind of interference or attack — the weird noise and Roy’s yelling — and then they were knocked back by an explosion or blast — the falling sensation.

That… didn’t really clear up where he was. It could honestly be any one of those places, though the Titans was the most likely. It’s possible that they’d been the ones who made the weird noise, then they felt bad for possibly injuring the Outlaws and then took them back to their base and tried to take care of them. It was just the kind of hero-y thing that they’d do.

Tim would know that he’d be hostile or just plain difficult with anyone else when he woke up, which explained why he was waiting for him to wake up. He probably shouldn’t keep him waiting. Even though he was probably the reason that he’d not been injured (other then that knife that was stabbing him) and was now getting held captive by his teammates.

There was no point in trying to warn Tim that he was awake. Tim would either be fully aware of this fact, or completely unaware, depending on how much sleep the kid had had recently. Silently opening his eyes, he hoped for the latter. Tim was way too easy to prank when he was sleep deprived. It was almost unfair. He was forced to be responsible eventually and take care of him, which totally ruined all pranking opportunities. Ahh, the woes of being an older brother.

The ceiling that he saw was white and pristine, but was full of medical equipment on sliding trollies. So this was a hospital grade bed (that much was obvious), and those were tools that were used in an emergency room. Typical for a superhero base to have in every single med bay and mandatory for every Batman-approved headquarters. Definitely a Titans base, unless his captors were just really well prepared probably bad guys.

His eyes slid over to where Tim was sitting. Except it wasn’t Tim. It was…

“Robin???”

The kid who’s head snapped up was most assuredly, 100%, **not** Damian. Said kid was definitely a Robin, if the “R” on his chest was any indication. Jason knew his Robins, and he can verify that the outfit the boy was wearing was never a uniform that had been used on the streets, which meant…

His head fell back onto the bed and he groaned massively.

Oh he did **_not_** have time, or patience, to deal with this.

Little Robin (as he dubbed him mentally) jumped up at his actions and scurried over to the side of the bed.

“Are you okay?!”

He laughed dryly.

 _I hate my life. Why do_ ** _I_** _always get in these situations? I’m going to bet that_ Wonder Woman _doesn’t have to deal with this kind of thing. Why is it always_ _me_ _? Of course the universe decided that the Outlaws just haven’t had enough on their hands recently so how about they deal with this also?_

"Sure kid. I'm _fine_."

Little Robin was still looking at him with a worried look on his face. He lifted his head up again.

“Please at least tell me that you’ve got a lady with fire hair and an idiot with a bow somewhere around here also?”

Little Robin cocked his head familiarly.

“Your teammates?”

“Give the boy a gold star.”

“No. They aren’t here. We only found you.”

“ _Uuuuuuuggggggggghhhhhhhhh_.”

His head bounced slightly on the pillow, warping his vision of the ceiling for a bit.

 **_Whhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy_ ** _. I just wanted to have a nice mission. Was it_ **_really_ ** _that much to ask?_

Little Robin was probably like, seven levels of confused right now. He was masking it impressively well. Or maybe this was just the kind of thing that happened. Actually, he should probably clarify something first.

“Kid?”

“Yeah?”

“How good are you at doing flips?”

“Acrobatics?”

“Yeah.”

Little Robin grinned at him - dang it he recognized that grin.

“I’m a pro.”

Of course. Because the universe loved Dick. Always the golden boy.

Said golden boy was staring at him like he was crazy. Heh. Kid didn’t even know the half of it.

“Let me guess, you were on a mission with your team, then there was a weird noise and I appeared somehow, so you took me back to your base and were waiting for me to wake up.”

Dick raised an eyebrow.

“I take it you’ve done some detective work before?”

“Can’t wear a bat and not be a detective of some caliber.”

Little Robin made a strange face at the mention of his symbol. He sadistically hoped that the kid (or one of his teammates) had touched the red bat insignia and had a shocking surprise.

“Right. Who are you?”

Hmm. Vague answer or scary answer?

“If I wanted you to know that, why would I be wearing a mask?”

Dick took it well and responded in kind.

“Don’t you mean a mask under a mask? Not a ton of people are so paranoid that they wear a mask under their helmet.”

He laughed. Oh, he liked this version of Dick. Smart enough to recognize a “no” and then roll with it.

“But I wasn’t talking about your secret identity. After the amount of time it took to get your helmet off without it knocking out whoever tried, we’d pretty much assumed that you weren’t about to give us you secret ID just cause we asked nicely.”

“Smart kid. You can call me Red Hood.”

Dick’s smile became fake. Not a reaction he was unfamiliar with receiving.

“That’s… interesting. You know, there was a villain in the Gotham area a few years ago who went by that exact same name.”

He had to say, Dick was always a master of the low-key interrogation technique. A true “good cop”.

“Well, isn’t that something. Think he’d be mad about me wearing a bat symbol and stopping crime with his name?”

Dick snorted.

“I’m gonna say yes.”

“Then my first mission is complete.”

“First mission? What’s your second?”

Well. He _did_ ask for it.

“How do you think Batman would feel about me going around committing crimes while wearing a bat symbol?”

Dick’s expression flashed to calculating before smoothing into that familiar happy neutral.

“Probably pretty ticked.”

“Then I have succeeded in both missions and can now die in peace.” He dramatically collapsed back onto the bed. “Double revenge is a sweet thing.”

“Soooo, you’re an antihero?”

“What gave it away? The words or the guns?”

Little Robin bounced a bit, playing up on the innocent, curious kid act. Not that he doubted for a second that Dick was actually quite innocent (as of now) and very curious.

“Both.”

He rolled his eyes and swung his legs to the side of the bed. Dick gave him a questioning look.

“I’m fine. Other then the small knife that’s trying it’s best to stab my back, I’m just peachy so let’s get this over with.”

Dick stuck his head behind him, likely looking for the knife (it helped with the kid act) before looking up at him.

“Get what over with?”

“The interrogation of Batman’s, obviously. He sends Robin in for preliminary vetting and a scope before getting answers the tried and true Bat-way. I’ve got places to go and two idiotic teammates to find, so I’d like to be on my way pretty quickly.”

Little Robin nodded, likely planning to interrogate him more on the way to Batman’s interrogation room that he didn’t doubt for a second that he had. They left the room and walked out into the hallway and he began taking stock.

Regular bat-grade hallway. Definitely was built by the bat. Dirt at the other end of the hallway near the corner. Entrance was that way and this wasn’t a moon or ocean base. Dirt wasn’t powdery, redish, or rich. Midwest or east coast then.

Dick turned away from the exit. Interrogation room was closer to the center of the base, but not too far from the containment rooms or med rooms. Containment rooms would be on the other side of the interrogation room if he didn’t see them on his way there. Training room should be around this area.

“Why do you want to get revenge on Batman?”

“Heh, kid, you do _not_ want to go there.”

Floors were scuffed and matte here. Speedster on the team then. He was willing to bet money that it was Wally. Gym that way then. Scuff marks on the walls.

“Did Batman do something to you?”

“Don’t ask me about Batman.”

“Okay.”

No sign of containment rooms over here. Either this was a massive base, there were multiple entrances, this was a small base, or they weren’t expecting a lot of prisoners. If this was a kid’s base, it was probably going to be medium sized. Not too big, not too small. Multiple entrances could be debated. Prisoners were unlikely, unless this was a freelance kid’s team without a solid JL connection so they needed a place to store any criminals they caught semi-permanently.

“Sooo, you have a team?”

“Yup.”

“I didn’t think that many antiheroes had teams.”

“That’s cause not a lot of antiheroes have similar enough goals to actually get along and mutually accept missions.”

“Oh. That makes sense. How’d you find your team?”

There really wasn’t a lot of harm in the questions (yet) and answering them would give some kind of impression of compliance. And that would lead to them underestimating him, which would give him a clear advantage.

“I busted one of them out of terrorist jail cause I was bored and then he decided to stick around. The other one found me after the submarine I was fighting on blew up and she didn’t have much else to do so she came along.”

“Cool.”

“And don’t worry, the terrorist jail was a jail run by terrorists, not for holding terrorists.”

That would be the interrogation room up ahead. Looked the same as ever. Just as white. Just as boring and forgettable. Time to annoy the Bat out of his bat-brain while figuring out how to get out of here and find the rest of his team so they could get back to their universe. Easy peasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WILL CATCH UP.
> 
> Chicken pox has not gone over well with my immune system overall, and I've had to take meds. Unfortunately, these meds have lead to a lot of unplanned naps, and that is really annoying when I have deadlines. Chapters 11, 12, and 13 should be posted tomorrow, as they were supposed to be posted yesterday, but AO3 decided to be difficult last night and refused to post them. 
> 
> I love the Bats being actual detectives, so I'm sorry if you found the excessive amount of theorizing and detail-orientation in this chapter to be boring. 
> 
> This specific arc is going to be multi-chapter. You can imagine it as a peace offering for getting so far behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts are open. 
> 
> Comments will ensure that I don't lose the small remains of sanity I still retain.
> 
> Until we meet again.
> 
> -Acxa


End file.
